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The Journal of Emily G Myers quizzes
04/17/2004 02:29 p.m.
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past/present
04/06/2004 12:27 a.m.
The new hour of daylight made the walk home happier. Seven o'clock and bright as could be. The things I noticed made me realize how wonderful a college town could be. Boys walking their dogs, girls jogging in little outfits, kids playing basketball outside an apartment complex.
I stopped there in my happiness, and thought about that last one. Playing basketball outside an apartment complex. Him. Her. Playing basketball. Getting sweaty. Touching each other as they blocked shots. Things going too far. My eyes watered. He moved the next day and never saw her again. God, this was the man I wanted to marry. Granted, he was not a man when it happened. What was it? Fifteen, I think? Yes, still a kid.
My room seemed miles away. I begged my eyes not to crowd too much with water, begged myself not to blink and force it down my face. Then I was in my room. I had not cried. My eyes were dry. I picked up the phone. He laughed at something Heather did. Then he heard my voice and asked what was wrong. I told him.
I was happy. So happy, you know? I was walking home from class and seeing happy things. Dogs and people and stuff. And there were kids playing basketball outside an apartment and I thought of that girl. You know. You and that girl.
Tears came. He consolled me. Asked me was he still that boy? No, he's not. Ok, I'll be ok. I love you too. He wanted to come over to hold me, he said. I said no write your paper. He said don't worry anymore. It didn't matter. I love you, baby. I know, I said.
Heather said to smoke a big fat blunt. I didn't have a big fat blunt. I had three Black and Mild's left over from smoking with my friend. So I said, ok, I'm going outside to smoke a Black and Mild.
I never realized what a social thing smoking is. I tried to avoid the obvious socialness, and I went to smoke behind the building rather than at the front where everyone else does. I felt silly. My acrylic nails made it hard to work the lighter. Work the lighter? Maybe smokers have a word for that. But I got it lit after a few tries. I had brought my cell phone with me so I could look deep in coversation while I smoked. I called Susan to ask if she was going home for Easter. She didn't answer. I called Koye. No answer. I looked through my phone book for a few minutes feeling still sillier. Then I called Eric back.
A boy walked by. He looked at my skin, then at my Black and Mild. He smiled and asked how I was doing. I smiled. Stupid. I think I'm supposed to frown and say what's up? That's what boys do. No, I giggle and say hi like a little girl. More people said hello. When I don't smoke, no one says hello. Maybe smoking makes you look more approachable?
As I smoked, I relaxed. I thought about the present. How hard it is for me to keep a grip on it. How I was enjoying it, loving it, until the past - not even a real, but an imagined memory - came up and hit me. And it hurt so badly. And I forgot about the present. I neglected it and shunned it. The sun probably cursed at me. I was loving it for once and the past made me forget. I forgot about the boys walking their dogs, kids laughing and playing. For the past. Something I can't change.
I gave Eric suggestions for his paper. My Black and Mild was getting short. I decided it was time to go in. Before we hung up I asked if he loved me, not any other girl. He said of course just you. The past made me doubt. Only the past. Something I can't change.
I am currently Calm
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journal comments
03/29/2004 07:48 a.m.
it says I have 3, but two of them are odd... not for me, I think.
if anyone knows what's going on, let me know.
for now, I'll keep my journal comment-able.
I am currently O.K.
I am listening to stephen lynch on my tv
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goals and stuff
03/22/2004 10:26 p.m.
I want to be a professor. I want to teach classes about the middle ages, women, religion, and now Africa. I know that doesn't really seem to follow a pattern, but it does. at supersheltered Killian Hill did we even talk about African history? we talked about Egypt a bit, and it's in Africa... but anything else? anyone remember anything? I don't. and today in my world civ class we did and I got that feeling again. whenever I'm not really sure about a period in history and I learn about it, I get this feeling like I'm being told a very important secret. I don't know why the rest of the class doesn't get as excited or angry or sad as I do about things. but we talked about Africa, and so many new ideas were introduced to me that I want to research and write books about. I want to merge the themes of the middle ages, women, religion and Africa. I could do it. maybe it's already been done, but I'll do it in a way no one else has. ahhh. I don't know, maybe all this is dumb and no one cares, but it's like oxygen for me. I didn't want class to end. she let us out a few minutes late and I still wanted to keep going. I never felt that way about a class before. I want to write books about history that no one but history nerds will ever read. that sounds like the most wonderful career anyone could have. I feel so purposeful. ah.
I am currently Creative
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revisiting a poem
03/17/2004 02:22 p.m.
I wrote this poem about Eric. I wrote it when I was convinced that I should break things off with him and stay with Tommy. and then I read it today, after all that's happened. and wow. you can read it the other way around now. you can go, well, I didn't mean it like that, but that certainly applies. oh heavens, I don't think I've ever written a poem like this that can just change on you. I'm a bitch. I just want that to be known. I want you to know that I know. I know what I am. but I made the right choice. I just did it in the worst way possible.
"not tonight"
I doubt every word he says
and wonder how many times
he's promised these things to others
the way he looks into my eyes
and whispers that no one will love me like he does
maybe he's right
maybe he's right
and maybe I don't want love like his
and he wonders why I cry so easily
wonders why I don't want to come over
not tonight
not tonight
easier done than said
his hopes are my wounds
causing suffering
my heart faulters
and skips beats
because it's not so easy to doubt every word he says
and maybe no one will love me like he does
so I sit
my thoughts hit every point of light
to avoid the conflict I know is on its way
can't stop what's on its way
can't stop at all
my heart from spinning or skipping
not tonight
not tonight
I can't stand any more of his love tonight
yes, I know, no one loves me like he does
and maybe that's the way I want it
maybe I don't want love like his
maybe I'm already getting enough
maybe the other is already more than enough
staggered walking, breathing
I want you to know
that I could never love you back
not tonight
not any night
I am currently Awestruck
I am listening to a printer printing
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girlfriend/friend
03/17/2004 01:34 p.m.
it has struck me how wonderful it is to be someone's friend rather than their girlfriend. and I hadn't realized this a few years ago when "let's just stay friends" had all these terrible meanings and feelings. it just felt like rejection then. but these days I'm realizing that breaking up is something usually only done by or to a girlfriend/boyfriend. mostly people don't break up with their friends... though I know it could happen, of course. but I'm seeing the beauty in "just" friends. such a funny, understated word, "just." there's a power to being a friend that a girlfriend will never, never have. I know it. I have it. maybe that's why I was so jealous of Chariece and I have bouts of jealousy over Heather. girls who are just friends. they're not to be overlooked.
I am currently Bemused
I am listening to typing typing everywhere and only coffee to drink
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a farewell to arms
03/16/2004 03:50 p.m.
I'd like to run away to Washington. I think it would be the most interesting thing I've ever done. and I also think Tyler would be the best person to do it with. and you see these kind of things on movies where they don't do it, and you're asking why, and saying, "well, if I were her..." but you're not inside that character. you're not putting yourself behind her eyes and looking out. you don't know she's already got so many things tying her down. that's a scary thought at such a young age. that I'm not even 20 years old and I have enough ties to make me hesitate at running away to Washington. that's scary. to be so young and so caught. and this is me, once again trying to be all things for all people. and I've told so many friends through my advice never, never to do that. but it's hard to take that advice. I want to be Eric's wife, Koye's plutonic life partner, and Tyler's stowaway. and I can't do it all. and I don't want to decide because I want to do it all. all of those things would make me happy. maybe all four of us could go to Washington and live together and Eric and I could have a baby or two... and... it's not going to work. there are about a million problems I see already. ah, to start over. but then, if you start over, you have to lose what you've already found, and what I've found are some amazing, wonderful people. if I started over, I think it would be only fair for God to say, ok no more amazing, wonderful people... give others a chance.
why am I writing this? so people know I'm thinking it. so it doesn't look like I didn't even consider everyone in my life. I consider them constantly. at every turn I'm thinking about people in my life. what should I be to them? how? never why. I know why. you would know why too if you knew these people. they are out of this world. they aren't human, they're so great. and how, I ask, did they come to enjoy me in some way? I don't get that, I never have.
but I'm considering them. and all their possible endings. and I feel, once again, like a whore.
I am currently Overwhelmed
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i don't know what this is
03/11/2004 05:14 p.m.
i hate to burst your bubble,
but he called me that too.
and whatever you've done,
we probably did too.
and if you think he's
never before had that conversation
that he's having with you,
well, honey, you're wrong.
he had it with me too.
the same kisses.
yep, the way he kissed me
is the way he's kissing you.
the same hugs. the same embraces.
all the same whether me or you.
i'm not saying all this to hurt you.
you're a victim just like me.
just like all the girls and boys he's tricked
into thinking, "there's only me."
i'm saying this so he'll know
that i know.
that i'm not blind to his ways anymore.
and just like i woke up to see
how hollow, how empty,
how fake he can be,
one day you'll wake up too.
maybe you'll have kids by then,
in fact i hope you do.
i think you could live together
and never wonder why
i'm saying all this nonsense,
why i would want to lie.
oh, honey, it's ok, I've been there too.
wanting to be loved, to feel pretty,
i know.
and i know it's up to you to figure out
all this on your own.
and maybe it's not my place to say anything.
maybe i should just leave it alone.
but it's hard to ignore a constant pain
in your stomach,
and maybe once i'm done writing all this,
i'll feel better.
but who knows when i'll be done?
I am currently Angry
I am listening to nothing
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tired
03/03/2004 03:07 a.m.
I think I'm going to quit my job. it's taking too much time away from me for not enough money.
Eric and I fought all day. I think it's better now. I hope.
my roommate almost started a war. she's lucky I'm such a reasonable person. I don't mind her piles of clothes, or the shoes, books, papers, lotion, dishes (clean and dirty), and food she has strewn around the room. and yet a few unwashed dishes of my own warrants a note. that is confusing. and I could say that to her, but it would just start a huge thing that we wouldn't be able to end. we're both messy people. I accept it. she's accepted it til now. suddenly her piles of crap are ok, but mine aren't? I'm sorry, but a messy person can't complain about messes.
blah. and now her keyboard is giving out...
I am currently Tired
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the passion
03/01/2004 04:16 a.m.
everyone's talking about it... why not me?
The Passion: I haven't seen it, and I don't plan on seeing it. if you'd like to make your presumptions of my heathenness, go ahead, but there is a reason I'm not going to see the movie. it isn't because I can't handle the violence, or am afraid of "facing facts" or anything like that. personally, I just feel that the idea of the movie is... misplaced, maybe? I understand Gibson wanted to show an accurate, realistic crucifixion, but why is that necessary? the crucifixion certainly is important to the Gospel, but I don't think it's central. I think the resurrection is central. all people die... that's not hard. it's the coming back to life that is the "proof" or what have you of Christ's divinity.
I don't mean to make light of the suffering. not at all. why did you get saved? why do you believe? for me, and it took me a while to realize this, it was because love is so important to us as humans, and Christ's love, as shown in his crucifixion, is more than we could ever wish for. that is important to know about Christ. but so is his humble birth, his entire ministry and, I think most importantly, his resurrection.
that's why when Ashley explained to me why in her church they don't wear or display crucifixes, I completely understood and agreed. why mourn and continuously replay Christ's death, when we should be rejoicing that he is alive? we celebrate Easter for that reason. that's why it's the holiday and not Good Friday.
now, all that being said, I can understand why my friends might disagree with me, as most (not all, but most) were raised Baptist. it is their way to focus more on death than life - not berating it, or praising it, just stating it.
and that was my 2 cents.
I am currently Tired
I am listening to um, roseanne. wow.
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